Follow My Lead
by Beth0987
Summary: Kurogane would stay with Fai through anything. But now Fai has gone, and Kurogane can only follow. What if he's already too far behind? KuroFai.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Tsubasa.

Wow, this is my first multichapter fic in forever. Don't worry- I have it all finished already, so I promise I'll never leave it hanging. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

The passage was dim, and silent apart from the soft click of Kurogane's boots on the dusty grey linoleum. He'd passed a few people in the rooms with the main exhibits, but it was a small museum in an out-of-the-way corner of the city, middle of nowhere.

He idly glanced into a display case, one of the many which lined the corridor. The glass was sparkling, a stark contrast to the shabby, peeling paint and grubby floor of the corridor. The spiders which spun their webs in every corner of the building had obviously been chased away from the artefacts, which lay on a bed of pure white, spotless silk. An earring, a jewelled brooch, a child's toy… The plaque next to them said the objects had been discovered a few miles outside of the city limits, into the desert. Believed to be about five to seven hundred years old.

Kurogane sighed, and reached up to tug at the collar of his shirt. Drowsiness hung over this world like cobwebs, and it was beginning to get to him. Everyone seemed to live in a soporific haze. When he left the inn he was staying at in the mornings, the landlady would wave at him sleepily and carry on whatever she was doing, a dazed smile on her face. Kurogane had been tempted more than once to stroll downstairs naked, just to see if she would DO anything.

It had struck him as the kind of thing the mage would have done. With that grin on his face.

He'd have to leave this world, and soon. It was chilling how many people had said, when he'd asked how they got there, 'Oh I was just passing through, and…' and trailed off into some rambling reminisce.

It was an easy place to get to, a large city on the outskirts of civilization, tucked into the desert as neatly as a diamond set in a ring.

It seemed harder to leave.

So Kurogane had decided to give it one more day and then go. When he'd arrived here, however, he had felt so sure he was close, that he had found the right place. After all, the witch had told him he'd know it when he saw it, hadn't she? He'd wandered around, talked to people, smiled through endless ramblings of drunk men he met in inns and toothless old women with too much time on their hands. He'd spent hours walking the city, listening on the wind that barely stirred the hot air for some whisper, some smell, some taste of Fai.

After a month, he hadn't seen anything. But that was the story of his life now, after he'd made the decision to search for Fai. A series of misses around corners and in passing, the feeling of being nearly somewhere and yet knowing he was still lost. Every day he longed for something concrete, something he could hold onto, but all he got was rumour and myth. Yes, a blonde man passed this way. We felt a strange presence in the woods to the north. First man to stay at our inn when it opened, tall man he was… called himself Yuri or Yuuki or something, began with Y… Gave me a handsome tip as well, I never forgot him…

Kurogane had heard the last one from an old woman, who must have been at least eighty. She said it had been over fifty years ago, and in a town a long way south of where she now lived.

The trail was getting colder, and he knew it.

And yet, in this world the feeling was so strong the force of it had left him breathless. The last time he had felt this close, he had still been with Sakura and Syaoran, still looking for those damn feathers.

_Kurogane was reading the letter again. Syaoran had given him a disapproving look, but it didn't matter. He knew it by heart, and spent every moment he could running over the lines in his head anyway. Sometimes, when it was late at night and the only sound was the soft rustle of wind in the trees, he could imagine Fai saying it. No matter how hard he tried, though, the only expression he could conjure up for the desperate fantasy was the one Fai had worn in the few days before he left: worried, tense, the smile straining a little at the edges. _

_He wanted more than anything else in the world to see the mage's grin again. _

_The symbols on the letter were neat, regular and perfect. It was obviously a translation of some kind- Fai couldn't write in Japanese. Even if he could, never as flawlessly as the letter showed, not a brushstroke out of place. _

_The paper was already yellowing slightly, and the deep creases had obscured some of the words. Kurogane brushed a finger down a column of text, and read it through again. _

Kuro-pon,

I'm sorry I have to leave like this, but I've been looking for someone and I think that I'm close to finding them. It's the magic in this world- I know you won't be able to feel it, but I can. I'm not sure if I'll be back in time to catch you before you leave, but don't wait for me. I hope you understand.

Fai.

'_Kurogane-san,' _

_Kurogane looked up. Syaoran was standing over him. _

'_Mokona says there aren't any other feathers in this world. We need to move on if we're going to find any. We've been here for a week longer than we needed to already,' _

_Syaoran said it all in a rush, as if he'd been planning what he wanted to say in his head for a long time. He looked at Kurogane nervously, before turning his gaze to the floor. _

It hurt him, in a dull way, that Syaoran hadn't been able to look at him in the end.

'_We can't leave Fai behind,' Kurogane said, staring at the letter in his hands dully. Syaoran made a frustrated noise. _

'_In his letter he said he might not be back. He said not to wait,' _

_Kurogane's head shot up, and he stared at Syaoran in barely concealed anger. Something flickered in Syaoran's eyes, but the boy had held his gaze. _

'_I can't leave him,' he said slowly. The slight nervousness in Syaoran's eyes had disappeared, replaced with a fury that could probably have matched Kurogane's. _

'_Sakura-hime needs more feathers. Even you must have seen how ill she looks,' _

At the time, Kurogane's mind had erased the dark circles under Sakura's eyes and added colour to her pallid cheeks. Now, as he remembered her, she'd looked gaunt and deathly pale. The smile she had worn in those last few days had only lent a macabre edge to the illusion.

'_I told you I can't leave without him,' _

_Even with the jagged ultimatum, there was no real force in Kurogane's words. Just a dull, flat acceptance of things as they had to be. Syaoran heard it, and his face collapsed into disappointment. _

'_I have to find more feathers soon, Kurogane. Even- even if you're not with us,'_

_There. One of them had said it. Kurogane was shamefully glad it hadn't been him. _

_He made sure both of the kids were asleep before he left. He told himself Mokona would look after them. _

He'd stayed six months in that world, trailing from town to city to village, searching for word of Fai. He'd only ever got the occasional rumour, or a snatch of gossip involving a tall, smiling man. He'd searched every place he could think of, and a few others told him about.

Eventually, he'd cracked and done the one thing he'd promised himself he would never do.

He'd called the witch.

'_What is it you want this time, Kurogane?' she'd asked. _

'_I want Fai,' _

_Simple and to the point. He didn't want to speak to her any more than he had to. _

'_I'm sorry, but it would cost more than you could ever afford to pay for me to tell you where he is,' _

_She had her arms folded loosely and tapped the fingers of one hand on her elbow. The hem of her dress swished in the dusty street, but seemed strangely impervious to the stains. It only reminded Kurogane of the dirt crusting his own clothes, and his collar began to itch. _

'_However…' _

'_What?' he demanded. _

'_I could let you search for him. You know he's left this world. You will follow, I believe,'_

'_I'd follow him anywhere,'_

'_Well then. The price is simple. The letter,' _

_Kurogane reached into his pocket and pulled it out. He knew every crease and wrinkle of the paper, every stroke of every word. What did it matter if he had the actual thing? He half held it out to her, then froze. His hand involuntarily jerked back a little. _

'_You're going to take my memories of what it said,' _

_She laughed. 'I don't need to. You've always struck me as a man who needs something solid to hold on to, so this is an equal trade,' _

_Kurogane held out the envelope. She reached out and took it from his fingers. _

_His hand wasn't shaking. _

'_You'll be able to travel between worlds now,' she said, her tone suddenly brisk and businesslike. 'It won't necessarily be a place Fai is, or even where he's been- you haven't paid enough for directions. Maybe if Fai had written a longer letter,' _

_She smiled at her own joke, and disappeared with a puff of nothing. _

_Kurogane stood very still for a few minutes, then began to wish he'd asked how the travel thing worked. He looked up at the sky. It was night, and the slimmest crescent moon barely lit the darkness. The stars seemed to have faded away. _

'_Take me away from here,' he said, feeling foolish. _

_To a casual observer, he would have simply vanished in a wisp of smoke. _

So he'd searched. And searched.

He'd found nothing.

Here, however- here he might be on to something. He'd heard that this museum had artefacts found in the desert, and even though no-one had mentioned a Fai-like person yet, the feeling had been so strong, he'd been unable to resist a visit to the tiny, strange building in a half-forgotten corner of the city. It was far away from the bustling marketplaces and busy streets of the trading centre, where Kurogane had searched.

But when he'd arrived at the museum, it had felt like home.

So even after a few hours spent trawling display cases full of dusty old bowls and coins, Kurogane felt no desire to leave. The warmth enveloped him and left him with a sense of contentment he'd almost forgot it was possible to have since he'd left his home, and after that since his new home had left him. He wandered up to the next case, containing a display of antique weaponry. For the first time that afternoon, his curiosity was piqued. He pressed a finger against the glass and traced the lines of a beautiful sword, looking even more elegant against the harsh blocks of the gun beside it.

There was a layer of thin drawers underneath the display case, and he pulled the top one out curiously. It slid out without a noise on well-oiled castors, revealing a tray full of daggers, carefully laid out from plain pieces of sharpened flint to perfectly wrought steel blades, polished to perfection. One had a matching sheath, the shape of a dragon pressed into the leather. He had owned something similar, once. A small sign underneath it said it was a replica, and that the original was in the drawer below on the right, but had been badly damaged from exposure to the elements.

Kurogane pulled out the drawer, and his heart stopped.

It was his. The same crack in the wooden handle, worn smooth from wind and sand, the same small notch on the end of the blade.

The dagger he'd given up for lost or stolen on the night that Fai left.

TO BE CONTINUED

Preview:

He read the short note, written in spidery writing, that accompanied the dagger. _Short-bladed dagger, designed for throwing. Assault weapon. Dated 1200s. _The note on the replica read almost exactly the same, except for the few words of explanation.

Kurogane shuddered. That was over six hundred years ago. How had he got so far behind?

Sometimes he thought he'd never catch up. It was moments like this when he was so close to some sort of truth when he most keenly felt Fai slipping away from him, inch by inch.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Onwards!

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He lost track of how long he stood staring into that drawer, re-learning the image of a weapon he'd once known by heart. It was much shabbier-looking than when he'd owned it, and he wondered what had happened in the years in between. The handle was cracked, yes, a deep black line curving across the otherwise pale wood, and the blade still contained the same scratches and notch he'd spent almost an entire night trying to polish out, once. Now, however, the formerly gleaming wood was a roadmap or scores and marks, and the blade was similarly damaged by time and careless handling. If he looked closely, he could see grains of sand stuck in the join between the hilt and the blade, which he was willing to bet was the impossibly fine stuff of the desert that wrapped around this city.

He read the short note, written in spidery writing, that accompanied the dagger. _Short-bladed dagger, designed for throwing. Assault weapon. Dated 1200s. _The note on the replica read almost exactly the same, except for the few words of explanation.

Kurogane shuddered. That was over six hundred years ago. How had he got so far behind?

Sometimes he thought he'd never catch up. It was moments like this when he was so close to some sort of truth when he most keenly felt Fai slipping away from him, inch by inch.

'Do you like the exhibit?'

Kurogane whirled round when he heard the dry voice behind him. Its owner was every bit as dry, as if years of living in the desert had sucked all the moisture out of him, The man looked about sixty, with white hair and moustache and a shabby grey suit. His face was deeply lined, but there was a hint of keen intelligence in his pale blue eyes.

'I put that one together myself, out of artefacts a team found on a dig a couple of years ago,' the man said, gesturing to the open drawer.

Kurogane swallowed, but his mouth remained dry.

'Where did you find this dagger?' he asked, pointing to where his old weapon laid on the silk. The man bent almost double at the waist to peer down at it over the tops of his glasses, which were almost falling off of his hooked nose. After what felt like an age to Kurogane, but was probably more like a minute or so, he straightened up and smiled.

'Ah, yes. I remember this one. It came to us in rather… unusual circumstances a few years ago, along with a few other artefacts. It's an odd story connected to it, makes it popular with the local children,' The man wore an indulgent smile, though a faint frown line furrowed his forehead. That look told Kurogane probably all he needed to know about the local children.

'What's the story?' Kurogane asked, trying to keep his impatience out of his voice.

The man glanced at him with a touch of asperity. 'You have to understand, this sort of thing happens all the time on archaeological digs. There's nothing supernatural about it,'

'Yes, yes, sure,' Kurogane said. The man narrowed his eyes slightly at Kurogane's obvious haste, and Kurogane tried to smooth his features back into a more impartial expression.

'Well, this dagger came to me with a few other pieces during one of the hottest summers I've ever felt, and I've lived her my entire life. Not many teams go out when there's that kind of drought, but a young man, first season he had a group to take, decided to go out and see if the sandstorms unearthed anything. Of course, about the biggest storm of the decade blew up a few days after they left the city. Most folk gave them up for dead after the first week, but about ten days after the storm they reappeared, saying they were out of supplies. Didn't know what storm we were talking about. Apparently it passed them by. But they'd found a new dig site, and a few strange things they got there too,'

'You think there's nothing strange about those people being saved from a killer storm?' Kurogane asked, more to provoke a reaction than any real curiosity. He was rewarded by the reddening of the man's cheeks in righteous indignation.

'There's some very unique geography in the desert around this city which makes it the archaeologist's paradise. Part of this is the structure of the hills and dunes, which causes some areas of land to remain almost unaffected by the winds and other forms of extreme weather and therefore the artefacts lie undisturbed for centuries,'

The man gave Kurogane another hard stare. 'Not that you'd know any of this. You're not from round here, are you?'

Kurogane had to resist the urge to laugh.

'No, I'm not,'

_Not by a long, long way._

The man stuck out a thin hand. Kurogane stared blankly for a moment before remembering to shake. The hand was a dry as everything else, and strangely limp. As if it had wilted in the desert heat.

'I'm Jeremy Clarkson, curator of this museum,'

'It's nice to meet you,' Kurogane said politely, his eyes already drawn back to the dagger. He pulled the top drawer open an inch or so as well, and stared hard at the replica. It didn't look quite right, somehow.

'Yes, that is quite a fascinating piece, isn't it?' Clarkson said, following his original gaze. 'As I was saying, it came in with some other items from that team in the storm. They went on to have many other successful digs as well. They got the nickname 'Miracle Seven,'. I think they're out in the field right now, as a matter of fact,'

'What other items?' Kurogane asked. The drawer with the replica was half open now, and Kurogane traced the designs on the glass with a fingertip. Ah. That was it. They'd got the carvings around the hilt slightly wrong.

'Well, there was a piece of parchment, for one. Covered in writing, but it's like nothing we'd ever seen before, particularly in this part of the world. Normally any carvings we see are hieroglyph-based, like Aijyption writings. But these… They were closest to the writing of the Rooshan tribe, way up north. The ink was an odd composition as well, some ingredients we'd never seen before. Certainly not local,'

Kurogane's head shot up at that. Clarkson looked mildly gratified his audience was finally interested, and carried on.

'There was the dagger, of course, but no other weapons. That was odd, especially considering how dangerous the area was to travel in at that time. This was long before any safe roads or law enforcement, and in any case this man was found a long way from any road. Some things which looked like rune tablets, but with odd carvings. Haven't been able to find any comparisons anywhere in the world, but there are some similarities to the Srillic language. Again only spoken in the very far north. Fragments of cloth and fur. The fur was an odd one, as well. The only animal we've been able to find with hide remotely similar has a habitat even more northerly than the Rooshans. All this points to the man being a northerner, but this was long before any trade routed were established,'

Kurogane couldn't believe what he was hearing. Finally… after all this time… Fai had been here. It had been a long time ago, perhaps, but he had definitely been here.

What Clarkson said next, however, bought this fragile new hope and the rest of his world tumbling down around his ears.

'And the skeleton, of course,'

At first, it didn't register. Then the meaning fully sunk in and Kurogane gasped, leaning against the display case for support. He dimly noticed Clarkson frowning at the marks his fingers left on the polished glass, but he was beyond caring.

_It couldn't… it just couldn't… not after all this time…_

_It couldn't end like this. _

'A.. a skeleton?' he forced out, and Clarkson gave him an odd look.

'Yes, a skeleton. They're quite common around here, you know. Travellers overestimating the miles they can go on one bottle of water… the desert has claimed many lives over the years,'

Kurogane concentrated on breathing for a moment.

'Are you alright?' Clarkson asked. 'You look quite faint. I'll go and get you some water,'

He listened to Clarkson's footsteps disappearing down the corridor, and tried to steady his rapid pulse. Maybe it wasn't Fai. Maybe someone else had stolen his things, or Fai had given them away. He might even have dumped them. After all, what use was a fur coat in a desert?

When Clarkson returned, Kurogane had regained his composure, though his reflection in the glass of the display case showed his face was still dead white. He drank half the water Clarkson had brought him in one gulp, then sipped the rest more slowly.

'Thank you. I'm fine,' He said in reply to Clarkson's questioning look.

'Are you sure? You look as if you've seen a ghost!' Clarkson said. Kurogane didn't even try to stop the laughter, and winced at the hysterical edge to it.

'Not seen. Never seen, not ever, not even after all this,' He was babbling, and he knew it. He just didn't care. Fai was dead. What did any of this shit matter?

'Sit down,' Clarkson said firmly, and steered him to a chair. Kurogane slumped heavily into it. He raised the glass to his lips again, but found to his surprise it was empty. Clarkson took it off him.

'I'll go and get some more,' He said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. Kurogane wasn't surprised. After all, the poor man wasn't used to people going insane whenever he mentioned skeletons.

_You've got to get a hold of yourself, _he thought firmly. But it was no use. He couldn't believe he'd come so far, for so long, for this. To see Fai reduced to a dried-up skeleton in a dusty town at the end of the world.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't Fai.

Even though he already knew deep down, He couldn't help asking Clarkson to describe the skeleton when he returned with another glass of water. Clarkson looked utterly relieved the stranger seemed to have recovered from his psychotic breakdown.

'Well,' he said with a long intake of breath, and Kurogane could see he was building up to another long explanation. 'The skeleton was a male with a skeletal structure similar to that of the northerners, for example the Rooshans. Late twenties to early thirties. Several healed fractures to various bones, for example the arms and ribs, that had healed remarkably well considering the times he was living in. You could consider this man very lucky or very unlucky, I suppose. There was an unhealed fracture to the skull and right wrist, and evidence of extensive internal trauma just before death. Also- and this is the interesting part- there was damage to the left eye socket. Nothing like a fracture of the cheekbone, which sometimes causes the socket to distort slightly, but bruising and a scrape on the actual socket itself. Almost like the eye was removed forcibly,'

Kurogane stared dully at the floor. Not only had Fai died, he had died hurt and alone.

'The skeleton… do you still have it?'

'Yes, we still have all the artefacts related to that particular dig,' Clarkson replied, and stood up. He seemed more comfortable in this return to matter-of-factness.

'Where?' Kurogane asked. He couldn't bear the thought of Fai's remains- Fai's corpse- on display to anyone who just happened to pass by.

'Well, the skeleton was too worn and damaged to be displayed in the museum, but we have it in storage. In a proper casket,' he added, seeing Kurogane's expression. 'We are respectful of human remains. We aren't barbarians.'

It was a weight of Kurogane's mind, if only a small one. He took a deep breath. He really didn't want to do this, but somehow he knew he'd never have the chance again.

'May… May I see it?'

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Preview of Chapter 3:

Kurogane waited until last to pick up the letter, but it hadn't been worth drama. It was written in Fai's language, and he couldn't read a word of it. It had obviously been done in a hurry- each symbol tilted sideways alarmingly, and there were additions and crossings-out all over the parchment.

'As I said earlier, the language is more closely related to the Northern tribes. Our translator had a devil of a time with it,' Clarkson said, watching his brow furrow.

'Translator?' Kurogane asked sharply. Clarkson blinked. 'You had this translated?'

'Yes, It's standard practice with documents this old,' Clarkson replied. 'It's in here somewhere…'


	3. Chapter 3

Well then. On with the show. Thanks to everyone who faved and reviewed!

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Clarkson led Kurogane down a flight of stairs so narrow and rickety he thought more than once the floor would collapse beneath him. Though considering where they were going. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Each step down made Kurogane's heart sink a little further, and he was aching with dread at the thought of seeing his friend again.

_Only he's not my friend any more. He's an artefact. _

'Watch out!' Clarkson said urgently, and Kurogane looked up just in time to avoid smacking his forehead into a low ceiling timber. He stepped off the final stair into the dark basement. The air was so close and still Kurogane would have guessed the room was tiny, but when Clarkson turned the light on he could see shelves and stacked boxes stretching back for as far as he could see, with no walls in sight. His eyes widened fractionally, but enough for Clarkson to notice. Clarkson smiled smugly, obviously used to this sort of reaction from all of the visitors.

'Yes, I bought the basements of both the adjoining buildings, and I've had numerous extensions done over the years. I'm determined no exhibit should be thrown out of my museum for lack of space. Shall we go?'

He set off into a shadowy area behind a shelf, ducking under another low beam. Kurogane shuddered slightly. Down here… it wasn't just dead, there was an absence of life which made everything seem hollow and thin. Like a vacuum. He followed through a seemingly endless maze of narrow passages and gaps behind piles of boxed before they reached a plain brick wall that was thick with grime, and an equally grubby door set into it. Clarkson moved a stack of boxes from in front of the door and pushed it open. His hand left an impression in the dust on the knob.

'Here we are. This is where I keep the special artefacts,' He said, holding the door open for Kurogane. This room was a little cooler and a lot darker than the basement, and contained only a few of the boxes that littered the other room.

There was a plain black box in the centre, coffin-sized, with a small chest at its foot. Clarkson flipped a latch on the side of the box and began to heave the lid off. It rose slowly, revealing a thin strip of dusty grey.

Clarkson's grip slipped, and the lid crashed down alarmingly. Kurogane, whose head was instantly full of images of Fai's fragile bones being crushed beneath it, darted forward and grabbed the thick piece of stained wood from Clarkson. He set it gently against the side of the coffin and gazed in.

'Thank you for the help, but I could have dealt with that myself. Besides, the bones were never in any danger,' Clarkson said. He gave Kurogane's back a black look, but Kurogane couldn't have noticed. He was too busy staring into the coffin.

Clarkson was right- even if the lid had slipped, the box- coffin- was lined with some sort of thick glass, protecting its contents from the outside world. The bones lay in a heap on a thin layer of grey dust. Someone had tried to lay them out in the right order, but apart from a few recognisable ones- the skull, pelvis, ribs- it seemed more of less random. There was an enormous, jagged crack running across the top of the skull. Kurogane shivered.

'It's a fine example of a skeleton, especially considering the time it spent in the desert. Of course, it's hard to tell how much of the damage was pre-mortem, but I'm fairly sure the damage to the skull and ribs was only a day at most before he died,'

Kurogane's eyes were drawn to the horrid split in the skeleton's- Fai's- head again. He stared into the skull's grinning face. That was like Fai. Not even death would stop his smile.

His gaze drifted over the empty nose cavities and eye sockets… and stopped. There, in the left socket. A couple of scratches, stark against the scoured-white bone, and a small chip at the place where the corner of his eye would have been.

Kurogane's knees gave slightly, and he clung to the side of the coffin, ignoring Clarkson's frown.

_It is you. I can't… I can't pretend it isn't any more. _

The sudden crushing weight of reality fell on Kurogane, leaving him breathless.

_Fai is gone. _

But… Fai couldn't be dead. Kurogane could no longer imagine any sort of existence which didn't revolve around the mage. Not only talking with him, fighting with him, living with him, but simply knowing that if he shouted, wherever Fai was, he'd come running. Even if it was from the ends of the earth. Somewhere else's earth.

Knowing that even though Fai wasn't with him then, he'd been flashing that grin of his at someone else, somewhere else. Knowing that Fai was around bringing a little more light into someone's world.

But it all ended here, in this dark and dusty basement.

A jumbled collection of bones in a forgotten city.

_It's not fair. _

Not fair for either of them. Fai had searched for what he loved, even though Kurogane was sure he hadn't found it. Right up until he died in a Godforsaken desert, bleeding and alone.

Now Kurogane had to live with searching.

'Of course, there are also the artefacts we found on and around this body,'

Clarkson was talking again, but at first Kurogane didn't register it. Slowly, it sank in and he remembered what Clarkson had told him, up in that corridor which seemed lightyears away. There had been fur scraps. Runes. And… a letter.

'Would you be interested in seeing them?'

_Would I be interested… _Kurogane resisted the urge to strangle the man.

He nodded.

Clarkson unlatched the large and impressive-looking lock on the front of the chest at the foot of the coffin, and Kurogane suppressed another surge of anger. Fai's possessions were kept safer than the mage himself.

Almost reverently, Clarkson drew three objects out of the chest. Two were in see-through bags, and the other was held between two sheets of glass and was a sheet of paper of some kind, thick with writing. With the glass it was about the same size as a paperback book.

Kurogane looked at the bags first, treating them with the care that Clarkson tacitly demanded. One contained carved tablets, no bigger than his thumbnail, each carved with an intricate symbol. The corner of one was stained with what looked ominously like blood. Kurogane wondered whose it was.

The other held a dozen or so scraps of cloth, mostly weathered beyond recognition. However, one scrap of fur retained a tiny shred of embroidery which Kurogane could remember enough for it to tug at his heart.

_It had been the first time they had camped outdoors anywhere truly cold, and Kurogane had given all of the blankets to Sakura and Syaoran. He had foolishly thought he could handle it. He hadn't realised exactly how freezing it was going to be. _

_He shivered and blew on his fingers, attempting to bring some warmth into the icy tips. It wasn't working. He pulled his limbs even closer to his body. _

'_Kuro-chii? You look cold!' _

_Kurogane twisted his head to look over the remains of their campfire at Fai. His neck muscles protested at the movement, and he winced slightly. Damn, it was cold! _

_At once Fai was sitting next to him, and Kurogane felt an unreasonably warm hand on the back of his neck. How did the mage stay so warm? _

'_Kuro-pon, your skin feels like ice!' _

_Fai had obviously quieted a little as not to wake the kids, and had to lean in closer to make himself heard. The fur lining of his coat brushed against Kurogane's cheek. _

_Oh. That would be it. _

_When Kurogane felt the thick material settle around his shoulders, he tried to refuse. _

'_You're just going to get cold without this, mage,' _

'_Who said I was without it?' Fai replied, and Kurogane felt him wriggle closer to share more of the coat. _

_It had been a tight squeeze, even so, and Kurogane had woken up the next morning with a geometric swirl imprinted on his cheek where the collar of the coat had been digging into it. The kids didn't seem to notice. _

Now the embroidery was worn and faded to the same dusty grey as the coat.

The same as everything about this place.

Kurogane waited until last to pick up the letter, but it hadn't been worth drama. It was written in Fai's language, and he couldn't read a word of it. It had obviously been done in a hurry- each symbol tilted sideways alarmingly, and there were additions and crossings-out all over the parchment.

'As I said earlier, the language is more closely related to the Northern tribes. Our translator had a devil of a time with it,' Clarkson said, watching his brow furrow.

'Translator?' Kurogane asked sharply. Clarkson blinked. 'You had this translated?'

'Yes, It's standard practice with documents this old,' Clarkson replied. 'It's in here somewhere…'

Clarkson rummaged for a bit and eventually pulled out a sheet of ordinary paper.

'Here it is,' Clarkson said, and handed it to Kurogane. It was folded, but he still caught a glimpse of the first line.

_Dear Kuro- untranslatable ,_

Kurogane made to unfold it, but something stopped him.

_Not here. Not like this. _

'Could I spend a few minutes alone with the body?' Kurogane asked, trying to keep his voice emotionless. Clarkson looked uneasy, but he seemed more wary of what his guest may do if crossed.

'I suppose. Just this once. And only two minutes, mind you. Lock that chest once you're finished,'

Clarkson stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him, but didn't lock it. As soon as he was gone, Kurogane worked quickly. The letter was stored in the waistband of his jeans, and the translation went in his pocket. He reached for the other bags, and paused.

He'd never seen the charms before. For all he knew, they weren't Fai's. And the fabric was fragile: it probably wouldn't survive outside the museum.

He didn't want to destroy any more of Fai.

He gazed at the grinning skull again, for a long minute. Then, without knowing quite what he was doing, he pressed his fingers to his lips and then the glass, just above the skull.

_Goodbye, Fai. I only wish I could give you a proper burial. _

He closed the coffin and locked it, then did the same for the chest. Clarkson would notice the missing items eventually, but he would be far away by then.

Clarkson was waiting for him outside. Slowly they walked back up towards the world.

At the door of the museum, Clarkson shook his hand.

'Did you enjoy your visit?' he asked politely.

Kurogane wanted to laugh.

'It was… instructive,' he answered, and walked away.

He wasn't sure how long it took him to get there, but the broken walls that were all that remained of the city's empirical status, defending the city from desert attacks, were a long way from the museum and the sun was setting by the time he reached them. Even though they were ruins, it was still a long drop from his position just in front of the low stone wall that stopped people from falling to the rocky ground below. If he looked hard enough, he could see the dig sites the archaeologists came from all over the world to see.

He imagined how Fai would have seen the walls, fifty feet high and gleaming as they rose from the desert. Now they were only a shattered ruin, the broken pieces of which hid Kurogane from anyone but those approaching from the desert.

Fai had come that way, once.

He placed the glass carefully on the stone, making sure there was no way it could blow off the edge and smash on the rock below.

Then he pulled the translation out of his pocket and began to read.

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TBC

Preview for next chapter:

And… I can talk to them, Kuro- untranslatable . No, it's not magic. Not really. But it's so close, and the line is more blurred than even I care to admit. That doesn't matter, though. They've got what I struck out by author need struck out by author want. Something I've wanted since before this quest began, years before. Something I never thought I'd ever have a chance at getting. But to take it, I have to go a long way from here. Not another world, exactly. But there's something there I've been waiting to see for longer than anything else in my life.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. On with the fic!

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_Dear Kuro-(untranslatable), _

If you read this, I_'__ll be gone. I__'__m sorry I didn__'__t tell you anything, and I know I__'__m leaving you at a bad time. But when was our last good time, especially for something like this? I know how close you and Syaoran are to finding the feather in this world, and I__'__m sure you can do it without my help. You__'__ve both always been so strong! But there__'__s other business for me here. I don__'__t know if you can feel it, but this world is close to the edge of__…__ reality, if you like. Close to the world for people who have passed on from their own. It__'__s so thin, the veil between them. You can see through it, if you look hard enough. Can you see it? I__'__ve been looking so hard recently, I__'__ve been blind to everything else. _

_I can see it now, though. You're within touching distance of the feather in this world, and then (struck out by author) we'll (struck out by author) you'll move on. I can't. There are things I need to finish, and this world is the only place I can. I need to stay. I don't know if you've ever felt it on this journey. A place that just feels like home? _

_Well, this place doesn't feel like home. But if I look hard enough, listen hard enough, I can see something- someone- that's so close it hurts. _

_I can't see his face yet, though. That hurts more. _

_Why does it only go away when I'm with you? _

_You probably wondered where I went last night. I know you heard me. I don't know why you didn't follow like you did last time, but I'm glad. It would have only made it harder for both of us, and I'd rather you didn't see some of the things I have to do to make things right. And this is the only way I can. I'm not sure it's going to work, but… I have to try. You understand that, don't you, Kuro-(untranslatable)? You'd do anything to get back to your home world._

_(struck out by author) I wish I could come with you. (struck out by author)_

_Do you remember the cave down by the river, a few miles from where we're staying? Of course you do, you told Sakura and Syaoran to stay away from it at all costs. You told them there were evil demons in there, and I laughed at you. _

_I'm sorry. There are. Worse than you could have known, but not imagined. _

_And… I can talk to them, Kuro-(untranslatable). No, it's not magic. Not really. But it's so close, and the line is more blurred than even I care to admit. That doesn't matter, though. They've got what I (struck out by author)need(struck out by author) want. Something I've wanted since before this quest began, years before. Something I never thought I'd ever have a chance at getting. But to take it, I have to go a long way from here. Not another world, exactly. But there's something there I've been waiting to see for longer than anything else in my life. _

_Sometimes I wish, when I go down there, you had followed me. There's no point in taking a light; it's darker than anywhere I've ever been, and I often wish I had someone like you by my side to burn away some of the shadows. _

_I think you're laughing at the idea of you, the big dark scary man, chasing away my fears like a child's night lamp. But it's true. _

_I'm so afraid I won't be strong enough to carry this through without you to come back to in the mornings. _

_Though it does make the nights seem twice as long, knowing I could be back with you if only I turned and ran from the darkness I fear has an unbreakable hold on me now. _

_Do you sleep again, after I wake you when I leave? Sometimes I like to think you do. That this won't be as hard on you as it is on me, you can sleep soundly without me. I know I can't without you there, not any more. _

_Sometimes I want you to be awake, just so I don't feel so alone in the dark. _

_I hate what I have to do to even catch a fleeting glimpse of what I've been searching for, for so long. Can you imagine how it feels to have something you love snatched away from you again and again?_

_Of course you do. We're always travelling to new worlds, and I can feel you praying as hard as you can it'll be your own. It never is. _

_What you don't know is I'm hoping just as hard, too. Anywhere but my own, after all. And I don't think you even know about the expression that always crosses your face, that instant after we land. _

_The disappointment of having to spend another week, month, year in a foreign land under unfamiliar skies. _

_It isn't fair, really. I know how much you hate being so helpless, a slave to fate. I hate what I have to do to myself, just for this. To both of us. _

_But then who said life was fair, Kuro-(untranslatable)?_

_I'm not complaining for myself. After all, when your goal is to speak to the dead, of course it will be hard to get there. _

_The sacrifices you have to make are hardest of all. _

_But I can't help feeling a little sadness for you. All you want is your home, after all. There's no shame in a wish like that. And yet, you have to suffer for all of us. I'm so sorry. I'm not making it any easier with my own selfish quest, and yet I want more than anything for you to understand why. _

_But I know you can't. I barely do myself. After all, you can't change that past. If I look beyond my handful of half-broken promises and tattered memories It all seems so hopeless, so meaningless. _

_Yet it means the world to me. _

_If I told you what it was you'd probably just tell me to go and look in a mirror or something. It'd have the same effect. That's true, I suppose. It wouldn't really be him. It's a shadow. An echo. Something from my own scattered mind. But knowing I could see it, if only I tried hard enough, and not doing anything at all is tearing me apart. Knowing how blurred the lines are. How close I am. Sometimes I wake at night and I'm so sure I'm there, with him, and everything is all right again. Everything is the way it could have been, could still be if only things didn't always break around me. _

_I'm sure you know the feeling. _

_Though waking up next to you goes a long way towards making it better. If I've ever woken you, I'm sorry. I know my hands are cold. But I can't help making sure you're real, still there. Still the same. _

_You've always been something I could hold on to. _

_I suppose if I actually end up leaving this for you and you're reading this you'll be wondering who 'he' is. But you don't need to wonder. You already know him, in a way. _

_I made a promise to him a long time ago, that I'd bring him home one day. Or if not, somewhere we could both call home. But I never could. I won't be able to now, either. I just want to tell him goodbye, and that I'm sorry for everything. That I love him, and I hope he can still love me after everything I've done. _

_Not like that, Kuro- (untranslatable). It's… complicated. I owe him more than I could ever possibly repay. _

_But he's not the one I love above all others, that I couldn't imagine my life without. _

_That's you. _

_Only you. _

_It only ever was. _

_And writing this makes it twice as hard to know I have to leave. _

_I'm sure if you're still the same Kuro-(untranslatable) I remember, you won't understand what I'm talking about. And I think it's better for both of us like that, really. I know if I write it down it'll only make it harder for me to leave. _

_Though I can't imagine it being harder than it is already. I feel as if I'm tearing in two. _

_The truth is, Kuro-(untranslatable), it is the hardest part. Leaving you. I never realised until now how much I need you. I've come to rely too much on you over the last year, and I'm ashamed of myself for bringing this down on both of us. _

_I try not to think about what happens if this goes wrong. I don't have you with me to pick up the pieces, mend the damage and help me carry on. _

_Not that we ever had to do it like that. It was more of an… understanding. I had your back. You had mine. We were both protecting Sakura and Syaoran. _

_But it was nice to know that if I ever did fall, you were there and more than capable of catching me. _

_I stumbled, once or twice. _

_Once again, I'm sorry I have to leave, and sorry I had to leave you like this. Please don't come after me. If I don't come back, it won't be worth it. I probably won't. I have to go a long way, not only to another world but to another… existence. Another life. Another me, almost. _

_I'm not sure I could face you afterwards, anyway. What I've been doing these last few nights will be nothing compared to what it takes to tear away the veil. And the demons are hungry for blood. _

_I still don't know what to do. Not exactly. I know the magic, but the consequences could be devastating. Please, please don't linger in this world longer than you have to. I don't want to be the cause of any more death. _

_If we do meet again, it'll be a long way from here. Certainly not in this world. _

_Maybe it'll be in yours. After all, I may find what I've been searching for here. Perhaps you'll find your way home soon, too. I hope you do. We all deserve a break now and then, Kuro-(untranslatable). Even big strong ninjas! And I'd really love to see your world. You make it sound so beautiful when you describe it to Sakura or Syaoran, even if you don't know you're doing it. Especially the cherry trees. It was too cold for anything like that where I come from. _

_Do you remember telling me about the cherry trees in spring, Kuro-(untranslatable)? _

_I don't think you would. It was an offhand remark, really. But I do. _

_I've been trying to remember everything about you, in case all I have left are the memories. _

_And my dreams. _

_I hope even if I do never see you again, you'll remember me? At least a little? When you're old and grey and doubtless someone very important, there's still a tiny corner of your heart that can recall a homeless mage who was absolutely honoured to be able to call you a friend? _

_It's all I can hope for. _

_Even if this is my last goodbye, I promise I will never stop thinking about you. I'm not sure I ever could. Even if I didn't leave any impression on your heart, I want you to know you will always have mine. _

_(struck out by author) I love you, Kurogane. (struck out by author)_

_Fai. _

Kurogane read it through three times. He folded it neatly, using the same creases as before, and tucked it carefully away in an inside pocket where it wouldn't get lost or damaged.

Then he slammed his fist into the rough stone wall so hard several chips were sent tumbling to the ground far below, while the wind howled around him like an savage ghost.

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TBC

Preview for next chapter:

The thought that had been running through Kurogane's mind returned full force. He was stuck in this world. After all, he'd found Fai, hadn't he? The witch had fulfilled her end of the bargain. She had no reason to allow him to continue the luxury of travelling between worlds whenever he wanted.

He had nothing left. Nothing except the clothes on his back and a few stolen museum artefacts. That wouldn't get him far, even in a world as benign as this.

He almost wished the world were dangerous, full of perils and monsters. That way, if he was killed by some beast or starved to death in an alley somewhere it could only be destiny. After all, what could you expect of a broken man with no possessions and no purpose?


	5. Chapter 5

First of all, a massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story so far. I'm sure every author on this site knows how nice it is to recieve a review, even if the person is just saying that they are reading and/or enjoying the fic.

So, on with the story!

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So it really had all come to nothing, then.

All these years of sacrifice, longing, loss… All for a dusty skeleton in a desiccated world. All for a few scraps of cloth, a few carved pieces of bone, and a letter.

It wasn't much to lose. So why did it hurt so much?

The one thought that Kurogane's mind kept returning to was that this _wasn__'__t Fai. _Nothing about it was. He couldn't imagine the mage in this dry heat. He had been made for snow and ice, for darkness and mountains. Not endless sand and a baking sun that never seemed to dip more than halfway below the horizon.

_Oh, Fai. I'm so, so sorry. _

Kurogane was hunched over, staring out across the desert plains. He hadn't moved from his spot on the edge of the wall. He'd just sat, watching the sun glide lazily across the dome of clear blue sky and feeling the dull throb of his knuckles from the contact with the wall. He had been a little gratified to see where there had before been dry stone there was a chipped dent and a reddish smear.

The blood drying on his hands had itched, but he didn't feel like moving to wipe it off.

It had also attracted the attention of a fly, which buzzed for a few minutes before finally settling on the most shredded knuckle. Kurogane let it, not taking his eyes off a blank point on the horizon. He could feel it crawling around over his hand.

_Flies eat dead bodies. _

The thought struck him so hard he jerked, and the fly buzzed away. He nearly lost his balance and fell away from the wall, but he gripped a chunk of rock and held on literally for dear life. It scraped painfully against his palm, but he didn't loosen his grip until he was sure he had a concrete footing again. He climbed over the wall with more care than he would normally use, but as soon as he was on safe ground again he slumped back again the stone wall and the blessed relief of a slight shadow.

_What can I do now? _

The thought that had been running through Kurogane's mind returned full force. He was stuck in this world. After all, he'd found Fai, hadn't he? The witch had fulfilled her end of the bargain. She had no reason to allow him to continue the luxury of travelling between worlds whenever he wanted.

He had nothing left. Nothing except the clothes on his back and a few stolen museum artefacts. That wouldn't get him far, even in a world as benign as this.

He almost wished the world were dangerous, full of perils and monsters. That way, if he was killed by some beast or starved to death in an alley somewhere it could only be destiny. After all, what could you expect of a broken man with no possessions and no purpose?

Here, dying would just feel like defeat. If he fell, someone would pick him up. If he didn't have any money, someone would hire him to do a job they didn't really need doing, just so they had an excuse to give him the cash. He would float aimlessly along for ever.

He couldn't think of anything worse.

The sun was behind him, but he had still been sitting outdoors for the hottest part of the day and more. His clothes were soaked with sweat and his throat was dry and sticky.

He climbed down off the wall.

The streets were far too narrow and cramped. Normally they made him feel safe, the bustle of people gave him an anonymity he usually craved in every world he visited. But now it felt too confining, almost claustrophobic. He needed to get out. But where? The city was surrounded by desert, and transport out cost money. Though he knew he couldn't stay here. Because of Clarkson, if nothing else.

Clarkson would try to take the letter away from him.

And he'd kill every man, woman and child in this damn city before he let that happen.

An image flashed through his head. For a second he couldn't place it. But it was familiar: he had been staring at it all day. The ruins of a temple, about four or five miles out into the desert. There had been some grass around it. A dusty, scrubby breed like everything else here, but it had been a spot of green amongst the endless sea of orange. And the scoured white stone walls of the temple had reminded him of Fai.

After all, where there was plant life there was water, right? Water was a precious commodity here, and that the site was of archaeological interest was probably all that had saved it from being stripped to find a spring so far. If he got out there, maybe he could have a drink. He certainly couldn't afford one now, unless he bartered away his shoes or something.

He could imagine how he must have looked, wandering the city hollow-eyed and sickly pale. He saw any number of concerned looks, but it didn't seem to be able to penetrate the sickening numbness that surrounded him

_Fai is dead. You couldn't save him._

He felt an inexplicable rush of anger. Fai had said in the letter he didn't want to cause any more death. Yet what was this? Spending your existence in the dead-end of nowhere, unable to feel or connect again with the world. Held in place by a sea of memories that are all you had to hold onto.

He reached one of the gates out of the city. He nodded to the guards, who looked astonished he was leaving on foot. His journey left a trail of footprints that were easily swallowed up by the dry sand.

He couldn't know how long he walked for. Any functions he might have once had, like knowing the time by the sun, or pacing how far he had walked, was swallowed and overwhelmed by memories of blonde hair and pale skin, of a bright smile and silly nicknames. Soft as the fur he wore on his coat, yet Kurogane had always sensed below the fluffy exterior there was a soul of steel. And he had been proved right, time and time again. He may have saved Fai, but Fai had saved him too, countless times. In more ways than one.

He looked dimly up and the temple, but it seemed no closer. It also seemed to shimmer oddly in his view and he thought for a gut-wrenching moment it might only be a mirage, that his mind was paying tricks on him.

Though dying in the desert didn't seem too bad.

His toe stubbed against something. He looked down to see a single tough stump of prairie grass. There was no green though. Its distance from the shade of the temple and the hot sun had bleached it a snowy white.

He twirled a stem in his fingers and , for the first time since he opened the coffin, smiled.

There were only the occasional stubs of grass to mark his progress, and the lack of water was beginning to take its toll. Kurogane wondered when the last time he had had a drink was. Wait… he had been with Clarkson. That had been hours ago. He began to feel dangerously light-headed.

After what seemed like an age, the hot sun on the back of his neck was gone and he was standing in a shadow. He looked up blearily, his eyes almost sticking together. He needed water, and soon.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe there wouldn't be any hidden inside this ancient block of stone. If that was the case, he'd crawl into the shadiest corner and wait for the flies to feast on his corpse. Maybe they'd find him a skeleton, and he'd be in a coffin next to Fai.

The dragged his feet and little over the threshold, and frowned. He wasn't normally this uncoordinated. The dehydration must be messing with him more than he thought. The room span as he took his first steps into the temple.

It was blissfully cool inside, but also dark and dead silent. There were no windows, and the light from the doorway barely lit the interior. What he could see of the walls, however, was covered thickly in carvings.

There was a sound. Almost too faint to hear. Kurogane held his breathe and made an effort to steady his heartbeat as he listened.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Water. He would have gasped, but the sound would have stuck in his parched throat like fly-paper.

He slowly walked towards the noise, trying to make as little sound as possible against the tiles. If he drowned it out again, he was sure he'd lose it. If he did, he had no hope of ever returning anywhere, let alone somewhere he wanted to be.

Well, there was no way he could really go where he wanted to be.

He understood, with breathtaking clarity, what Fai had meant in his letter. To want someone back with every fibre of your heart and soul and mind, so much that you'd be willing to do anything to get it.

Only he was no mage. No thinker. He'd never be able to sense his way back into people's hearts the way Fai could.

He could only wait in desperate longing.

Finally, he reached an area of wall which was slimy and cool under his fingertips. He held his breath and tracked it back across the wall and floor, not daring to hope. He'd never been so close to dying before. Everything seemed sharper and clearer, even that which had been blurry only a few minutes ago.

But it meant the image of Fai in his mind grew stronger and larger, until he almost couldn't bear to think any more.

His fingers hit a thin trickle. Without thinking, he pressed his face against the wall and lapped greedily. For a few moments of bliss all thoughts of Fai were driven away by a simple need for self-preservation and water.

At last his mouth felt anything other than dry, and his stomach was full. He collapsed back against the wall with a contented sigh.

It fell away from his lips when memories of Fai came rushing back full force.

Fai smiling.

Fai laughing.

Fai trying to use chopsticks.

Fai telling Sakura and story.

Fai making bread.

Fai building a fire.

Fai talking to a customer.

Fai play-fighting with Syaoran.

Fai asleep.

Fai…

It was almost too much to deal with, and a harsh sob tore its way through his lips. He gripped the wall for support, his fingers slipping on the wet rock. Finally he found a carving deep enough to hold on to while the pain of losing Fai tore itself out of his chest.

He'd been lucky until then he hadn't had enough water to cry.

At last he blinked himself back into reality, and the memories faded away slightly. He explored the carving a little more with his fingers. It was letters, carved deep into the stone, and in the old language of the desert tribes. He carefully ran his hands along the row of carvings like a blind man until he could build up an accurate picture of what it said.

He laughed.

It was giddy and half-insane, but with a kind of fierce joy nonetheless.

He wasn't going to call it a coincidence. He'd had enough of coincidences. It was fate.

HABITIENT DESTRIE FAI IMAGISTRA

THOUGH WE LIVE IN SAND, WE DREAM OF SNOW.

Kurogane knew what he wanted.

He didn't belong here any more than Fai did. The difference was, he couldn't change the past Fai was trapped in. No-one could. Fai was stuck here, and no matter how much it hurt Kurogane had to accept that.

But he could change his future.

'I want to go home,' he muttered, and the words echoed around the empty chamber back at him.

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TBC

Preview of Chapter 6:

He would have to stay.

Right now he couldn't think of anything worse in the world. What could he do? How would he stand to live here?

He could travel, maybe. Go to the Northern tribes that Clarkson had been talking about. Do some jobs, earn some money.

It would start by getting back to the city, and catching a lift somewhere. He couldn't stay in the city with Clarkson, not with the glass letter still digging into his pocket.

Maybe he would survive. Somehow.

He turned back to the temple. Maybe there was something in there he could use to hold some water, so he would have something to drink when he got back to the city without having to pay for it. It wasn't practical to have a ten-mile-round trip every time he wanted some water. It wouldn't be practical certainly if he would be waiting all day to find a train willing to take him out of the city on credit.

He was so caught up in planning how he would leave he didn't hear the quiet pop, or the shushing of cloth against cloth as someone walked up behind him, hem trailing just above the sand in a way that almost defied gravity.

'You didn't need to shout, Kurogane. I could hear you just fine,'

He whirled round. The witch was standing there, looking as immaculate as always.


	6. Chapter 6

Well, on with the fic. Closing in on the end, here...

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Kurogane waited in the temple until the sun went down completely, leaning against one of the dry walls and staring at the carvings across from him, until it got too dark to see.

Still, he felt more alive than he had in days. He had a purpose again, and not just a drifting one. He could do something about this. Even if it came to nothing, he would have tried.

It still made his heart wrench sickly in his chest when he thought about what would happen if he failed. He'd spent most of the afternoon trying to put it out of his mind, but it kept coming back.

Finally, the glow of the moon barely lit the desert and Kurogane ducked the low entrance to step out onto the sane again. What had been a burnt orange in the day was now an eerie greyish yellow, like old bones.

He walked a little way away from the temple, then stopped. He could see the white walls of the city in the distance, and if he looked carefully enough the tiny niche in the parapet he'd spent most of the day.

He smiled. It felt so much better to be able to look across the desert without the sun beating down on his back. The freshness of his new purpose had brushed away the dust that had gathered in his mind from the old cities. He felt, for the first time since he started this whole quest, like he could go on.

Maybe with a smile on his face. Who knew?

He waited for a moment.

He shifted from foot to foot, and scanned back over the hazy memories of when his princess had sent him away. She was magic. Of course she could do it! But how would he…

How… How was he supposed to do this? That was the one minor flaw in his plan. Last time, she had come to him. He didn't know how she had known he needed her, but she had appeared on the night he was most desperate.

And though she knew how, she wasn't telling.

Finally, after glancing around him to check there was no-one about (as if there would be, at night in the middle of a desert) He took a deep breath and yelled,

'WITCH!'

It echoed back to him, and he winced at how loud it sounded in the still air. He waited until the last of the echoes had died away, bouncing for miles across the pale sands. He hoped no-one in the city could hear him. How could they? It was miles away.

But then, how could she? She was in another world, for all he knew.

Nothing happened. His heart sank. This was just a waste of time after all. He was doomed to linger here forever, just like Fai.

He had thought he had accepted this, in the long hours on the wall and in the temple. Accepted that he may spend the rest of his life in this dead world. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't. He didn't know what he would do here, but it wouldn't be for long.

Even if he didn't die or get himself killed, he'd probably go insane.

He tried yelling for the witch again. And again. Each time he was greeted with nothing but silence.

He would have to stay.

Right now he couldn't think of anything worse in the world. What could he do? How would he stand to live here?

He could travel, maybe. Go to the Northern tribes that Clarkson had been talking about. Do some jobs, earn some money.

It would start by getting back to the city, and catching a lift somewhere. He couldn't stay in the city with Clarkson, not with the glass letter still digging into his pocket.

Maybe he would survive. Somehow.

He turned back to the temple. Maybe there was something in there he could use to hold some water, so he would have something to drink when he got back to the city without having to pay for it. It wasn't practical to have a ten-mile-round trip every time he wanted some water. It wouldn't be practical certainly if he would be waiting all day to find a train willing to take him out of the city on credit.

He was so caught up in planning how he would leave he didn't hear the quiet pop, or the shushing of cloth against cloth as someone walked up behind him, hem trailing just above the sand in a way that almost defied gravity.

'You didn't need to shout, Kurogane. I could hear you just fine,'

He whirled round. The witch was standing there, looking as immaculate as always. It made her look almost ethereal against the dull dirt of the desert.

'…' He couldn't think of what to say. Even though he knew she was smaller than him, she seemed to fill up the entire desert. He was unable to look away. He didn't want to look her in the eye just then. Not after everything. Instead, his gaze settled on a patch of embroidery on her skirt. It reminded him of Fai.

'It's been a long time since I've been here,' she remarked, looking around airily. 'The temple you sheltered in used to be one of the biggest in these lands, did you know that? During those times running water was seen as nothing short of miraculous. A fitting spot for a place of worship. Such a holy land… they built the city a way away, of course. So many people so close… nothing short of sacrilegious, don't you think? It was ruined by the time I met your friend here, though. Sank into the desert. The locals thought the gods were turning against them, and abandoned it. Anyone who goes in there they believe will be cursed,'

Kurogane was going to mutter something about a curse, but one of her remarks stuck in his mind.

_When I met your friend here…_

For a moment Kurogane couldn't breathe. 'You met Fai? Here?'

She smiled gently at him. 'Yes. A long time ago, like I said,'

'What did he say to you?' he demanded.

'We made a deal,' she replied shortly, he tone emotionless. Kurogane knew better than to press for further details.

'Anyway, that's over and done with,' the witch said, returning to her normal self. 'Ancient history, if you like,' she added with a laugh. Kurogane scowled.

How dare she talk about him like that…

'What matters is now. And what you called me down for. You did call me down, didn't you? Quite emphatically, as I remember,'

She arched an eyebrow at him questioningly.

'And your wish is…'

'I want to go home,' Kurogane said, looking her in the eyes for the first time.

When he had been imagining it, it had seemed like a fair enough wish. But now it only sounded sulky and whiny, the sullen yell of a lost child too young to know better. Kurogane cringed inside at how selfish and petty it seemed. Out of all the things he could have asked for, out of all the things he needed…

'That's not so bad,' the witch replied, reading his expression. 'There's no place like home, right? I don't know if that's a saying in your world. I suppose not,'

Kurogane, not understanding what she was talking about, said nothing.

'I'll pay for it,' he added, trying to stop the deal sounding so childish. In his mind he frantically ran through a list of things he had left. It didn't amount to much, and there was no way he'd part with the letter. Not for anything.

He'd already lost too much of Fai. If his last piece of him went, with the knowledge there was no more, Kurogane wasn't sure what he'd do.

'What would you pay with?' she asked, sounding amused. Kurogane would have sworn she'd read his mind, if it wasn't so obviously true. He was dirty, pale, and his clothes were hanging off him. 'You know as well as I do that you don't have anything left,'

'My skills as a ninja,' he replied. Maybe it would be enough, just for this once.

She shook her head, and his heart sank. He didn't realise it could go any lower than it already was. 'It's not enough for this time, Kurogane. You have nothing that could pay for this,'

For a moment Kurogane saw a flash of regret cross her face. What was this? But it was replaced almost instantly by the same serene smile.

'It's lucky for you that your trip has been paid in full,'

Kurogane couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'Paid in full? By who?'

'A mutual friend of ours,' she replied.

Kurogane swallowed hard.

'Fai?'

'It was mage who is in both of our acquaintance, yes. But you know I'm not allowed to tell you details of other people's deal-'

She paused, as if cut off mid-sentence. Then she glanced upward, and mouthed something.

Kurogane would have sworn it was _Thank you. _

'It seems I can make an exception in your case,' she said, and waved a hand. A shimmering blob of light appeared a few metres away from them, glowing snow-white and making the desert sand seem even more grey and dull. It stretched upwards, then resolved itself into the form of the witch, identical to the one standing next to him apart from a faint sparking sheen. The air glittered around the copy as it moved.

Kurogane watched as the not-witch looked around, smiling slightly as she touched the stone wall of the temple. She ducked inside, and the real witch, hand still glowing, followed. Kurogane took a step forward, back towards the dark door of the temple. Only it wasn't dark any more. The inside glowed with the same pearly sheen of magic he had seen around the witch's hand when he had summoned the… vision? Mirage?

Memory?

He pressed a hand against the doorframe. It was warm, and not just from the desert sun. The heat seemed to be coming from inside the stone, almost like it was alive. It thrummed slightly as the magic inside the temple glowed brighter.

He shook his head and ducked inside.

For a moment he was distracted by the carvings. He'd never had a chance to see them properly, but they were shown in sharp relief by the light emitting from the witch's hand. Details of battles, coronations, festivals, disasters… Thousands of years of history had been buried when this sank half into the sand.

He remembered where he was, and looked back at the source of the light. She was staring at something on the floor, with the same impassive expression he had seen earlier when she had talked about her 'other deals'.

He followed her gaze. The not-witch was bent over something. He could see her jaw move as she talked to them, but he couldn't see them past the folds of her dress or hear what was being said.

The not-witch stood up again, and Kurogane could see what she had been talking to.

His heart stopped.

The familiar coat was stained crimson with blood, and more of it caked the sides of his face. A thin crimson stream threaded from one nostril and the side of his mouth. His hair was matted and thick with it. How could one person lose so much blood and still be alive?

His clothing was torn, and he held one arm close to his side like a broken wing. Yet the smile was still there, if so thin and strained it looked like a shadow against the bright grins from Kurogane's memory. He was half-sitting against the wall, leaning heavily on it for support. The not-witch was looking at him with something like pity in her eyes. Kurogane could see the same ghostly aura of not-thereness around him as he did the witch.

It was Fai.

TBC

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Preview of Chapter 7:

I was going to put one, but I couldn't find anything that didn't spoil the chapter too much to use. So I guess you'll just have to wait and see...


	7. Chapter 7

Onwards, as always. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

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'FAI!' Kurogane yelled, and ran over to him. He felt the witch's hand on his wrist, holding him back, but he pulled away and sank to his knees in front of the image. The cold stone was rough against his knees, even though he was kneeling on what was supposed to be the hem of Fai's coat.

He reached for Fai's arm. But his hand just went straight through. He could faintly see the outline of his hand through Fai's sleeve. He looked into Fai's face. Past the bright blue eyes, he could faintly make out the carvings on the wall.

A great desert battle, the crudely drawn figures fighting to the death behind Fai's head.

It was almost as if they were laughing at him

'It's only a memory, Kurogane,' the witch said. Her voice was filled with an emotion Kurogane didn't recognise, but had heard before from somewhere. He couldn't place it.

He took a step backwards from the image, and sagged against the wall, fingers groping the carvings for some support. He couldn't take his eyes off the vision of his friend lying broken and bloody on the ground below him.

_Fai coughed, and another string of blood splattered his coat. The witch's lips tightened, and he smiled up at her even through the pain clouding his eyes. One hand twitched as it lay against the ground, and he pulled his other arm tighter into his ribcage, wincing at the pain it caused. His legs were half-folded under him, as if he had collapsed there and been unable to move. _

_It was probably true. _

'_I'm sorry you have to see this,' he rasped. _

_The witch knelt down next to him again. 'I'm sorrier I have to see it happen to you. Why did you do this to yourself? This is a sorry state, and it all could have been avoided,' _

'_I couldn't… I couldn't not do it. I made promises… You would't understand,' _

_Fai gasped for breath, and pulled the coat a little tighter around himself. The witch reached down and pulled it more snugly over his exposed shoulder. However, this only revealed a deep and bloody gash that ran across one hip. She frowned, her face darkening, but she didn't say anything. Fai grinned feebly, and shifted so the cut was covered. _

'_I wouldn't understand? You think you're the only one who's made promises in your life, Fai?' _

_The witch's voice was stern, but gentle. She didn't sound like she thought he'd understand. _

'_Promises I have to keep,' Fai replied. _

_She smiled sadly down at him. 'And it was really worth this? Worth dying in some world not your own, just for a glimpse of his face?' _

_Fai coughed again, and squeezed his eyes shut. His entire face was pinched and tight in a way that Kurogane had never seen before. _

_And hoped he never would again._

'_Yes,' _

_But all the strength seemed to have gone out of Fai. What sounded meant as defiance only sounded like a desperate, final plea for forgiveness. The voice of someone who has nothing left to bargain with. _

_From the look on the witch's face, it hurt her as much as it did Kurogane. _

'_Sometimes you have to let go of things. Memories aren't butterflies, you see. You can't pin them down and keep them safe forever. Sometimes they fade, get forgotten. You have to let them go, or you die with them,' the witch said. Her voice was as weak as his smile. _

The witch glanced at Kurogane, but Kurogane barely noticed. He was too intent on memorizing every feature of line of Fai's face, every twitch of pain and strained smile.

His heart was breaking to do it. But what were the chances he'd ever see his friend again?

So memories didn't last forever. But Kurogane was intent on keeping his as long as possible.

It was the least he could do for Fai. A corner of his heart that still remembered? Fai had all of it. And probably always would.

'_It's a little… late for that now,' Fai replied. He pulled himself into a sitting position with a pained gasp, and leaned over slightly. The witch bent forward, and seemed to come to a decision. She stood up suddenly, and the hem of her skirt hit Fai in the face, He sneezed, and for just a second he looked like the Fai Kurogane had known. _

_If it wasn't for the blood. _

'_It's no good if you die before you make your deal,' she said, and pulled a bottle from a pocket. She walked over to the trickle of water in the corner of the temple and held the neck underneath it. For a moment they all watched the bottle fill up, excruciatingly slowly. The trickle from the wall was just that, and the angle was such that most of the water went round the bottle rather than in it. The hope in Fai's eyes as the water level slowly rose was devastating. _

'_They used to believe this spring had magical properties, long ago,' she said, and kneeled down again next to Fai's head. She handed him the bottle and he gulped from it thirstily. 'Were they right?' _

_It would be wrong to say there was more colour in Fai's cheeks: they were still dead white. But the look of gaunt, waxy, transparent deadness was gone, and he began to look a little more normal. His smile had a flash of the old brightness. _

'_I think they were,' he said, and shifted around a little, undoing the knot of fabric which was twisted around him. _

'_Down to business, then?' the witch asked. Some of the worry in her face was gone, replaced by the same impassivity she normally had. _

'_I'm sorry I left them all. Still. Even after everything that happened, what I did… All those people died, and I'm sorriest because I left them alive,' _

_Fai laughed, but the sound was grating and harsh. _

'_I want you to help them. Help Syaoran and Sakura find the feathers. I betrayed them all, left them because of my own short-sighted selfishness,' _

'_And how are you going to pay?' the witch asked tonelessly. Fai slumped. _

'_I don't know,' he said. 'I was hoping you could tell me,' _

'_I'm afraid you don't have anything of that kind of value. Syaoran and Sakura have passed beyond your help,' _

_The witch laughed shortly, as if something not really very funny had occurred to her. 'We believe that human life has such intrinsic value, don't we? Yet your death probably holds more worth than your entire existence combined,' _

'_What do you mean?' Fai asked, looking confused. The witch reached down and touched his forehead. Fai moaned, his eyes squeezed shut in agony. _

'_Your magic is waning, Fai. There's only a little left. Enough, though, to end your life after this deed was done. I'm sure that's what you were thinking, hmmm?' _

_Fai nodded weakly. His breathing was rapid and shallow, and his eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings._

'_I think the magic will be an adequate trade,' she said. 'Make it fast, though. If it dwindles any more there won't be enough. I would release the spell holding your arm together, at least,' _

_Fai jerked his head an a way that could barely be called a nod, and there was a sound as if the air had released a breath. There was a loud crack, and Fai cried out as his arm twisted to an impossible angle. _

'_Surely you knew it wouldn't heal it,' the witch said, but there was no malice in her voice. Just a deep unhappiness. _

'_Needed.. it… to… crawl… here…' Fai answered. His breath was coming in harsh pants. _

_The witch nodded. _

'_The trade, then,' she said. _

_Fai stared up at her, and blinked. _

'_What trade? You told me I couldn't help them,' _

'_You can't help Syaoran and Sakura,' she replied. 'But there is someone else who will need your help soon, if not now,' _

'_I don't know what you mean,' _

_Fai bit his lip as the witch leaned closer and whispered something in his ear. Then his eyes widened with horror. _

'_He didn't! I… I told him not to follow me. I told him to stay away,' _

_His face crumpled, and for a second it looked as if he was going to cry. The witch waited silently until he regained some kind of composure. _

'_But he did follow you, Fai. Were you staring into the past for so long you were blind to the present? Kurogane would have followed you anywhere. He told me so himself, not long after you left the world they were in,' _

'_I never meant for anything like this to happen…' Fai said, his eyes glittering. 'I'm so sorry, Kuro-chii,' _

'_You can still help him,' the witch reminded Fai gently. 'You can still buy him a safe passage home,' _

'_Do it, then,' Fai said. _

Kurogane watched in horror as tears spilled over Fai's cheeks. Fai had died slowly, in pain, and alone, for him?

_The witch's hand, which was still resting on Fai's forehead, glowed; it shone with a brighter light as she pulled it away. Fai's magic had gone with it. Fai screamed, and his eyes half-closed. He lay on the cold stone, panting. _

'_I can guarantee you Kurogane will have a safe journey, Fai. I hope that's a comfort to you,' _

_The witch had regained her professional manner. She said her goodbyes, but Fai couldn't reply. The blood which had dried in his wounds was flowing freely again, and he merely huddled in his coat, gasping for breath. _

The image wavered, and faded. Kurogane reached for it as Fai's face faded away from him for the last time, but he couldn't help feeling relieved. Watching Fai in agony, agreeing to a slow death just to save him, had torn his heart to pieces.

'How- how long did it take him to die?' Kurogane asked. He stared at the spot on the floor where Fai's body had been just seconds before.

'I don't know. That's where my memory ends. I left, and this is the first time I have come back since,'

She sounded oddly formal, and Kurogane looked back at her face. To his surprise her eyes glistened with tears. She blinked, and they were gone. The smile reappeared.

'Shall we complete our bargain? The least we can do now is honour Fai's sacrifice,'

Kurogane nodded numbly. The look on Fai's face as his strength slipped away… the sounds of his screams…

He'd never be able to forget it.

He felt a cool hand on his cheek, and looked up in surprise. The witch withdrew her fingers and gave him a sympathetic look.

'What I said to Fai goes for you too. Sometimes if you let a memory go, it's better than clinging to it all your life. Don't remember him like this,'

She looked him in the eyes, and he stared blankly back at her. She tutted.

'Don't you think Fai would be happier if you let him fly free?'

'I don't know if I can let him go,' he replied. The witch nodded, as if the was the answer she expected but didn't really want.

'Fai couldn't let go of his past, and you saw where it got him. It was especially sad when he had you. He could have had a future, but he chose to stay back when he should have strode forward. He learned, in the end. I only hope you do too before it's too late,'

'Learned what?' Kurogane asked, but the witch ignored him. A prickly warmth spread up his legs, winding round him like a cat. He looked down and saw a rosy light almost obscuring his feet.

'This will take you home,' the witch said, and broke the spell from herself with a twitch of her fingers. The temple began to fade, and Kurogane could barely hear the witch's last words to him.

'Fai sacrificed so much, with so little gain. Enough to send you on the scenic route, I think…'

TBC

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Preview of the epilogue:

A memory, from somewhere deep within his mind, floated a memory, dim and fuzzy with age and wear. The light seemed to sharpen it and make it stronger, so he was almost wrapped in it.

He could reach out and touch it, if he wanted to…

No. Something made him keep his hands by his sides. An image of Fai passing straight through his arms.

He watched instead, and felt.


	8. Epilogue: The End of Butterflies

So, here's the ending.

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The dim walls of the temple faded away, and Kurogane was lost in an endless swirl of violet and rose light.

A wave of contentment swept over him. He may have gone from somewhere bad to the unknown, but right now, right here, everything was all right. Here in a void between world filled with nothing but emptiness, nothing bad could happen.

A memory, from somewhere deep within his mind, floated a memory, dim and fuzzy with age and wear. The light seemed to sharpen it and make it stronger, so he was almost wrapped in it.

He could reach out and touch it, if he wanted to…

No. Something made him keep his hands by his sides. An image of Fai passing straight through his arms.

He watched instead, and felt.

_They were camping by a lake, somewhere. The land was called… Jilena? Jiola? Something like that. Fai and Mokona had been eating cake, and Mokona had got filthy. Fai had dunked him in the water for a wash. _

'_Kuro-tan! I need you to hold him down!' Fai yelled as Mokona wriggled like a demon just under the water. Fai was waist-deep in the lake and at least as wet as Mokona, but he didn't seem to mind. _

'_I'm sure it can clean itself,' Kurogane grumbled, and turned back to his magazine, ignoring Mokona's futile cries._

_A second later, the sopping wet furball was not in the lake but on top of him, soaking his clothes and magazine thoroughly. He leapt up and held it at arms length. _

'_Mokona is not an it!' Mokona protested, and attempted to wriggle back down Kurogane's shirt. _

'_Mokona! Leave poor Kuro-rin alone!' Fai said, and took the now only soggy Mokona out of Kurogane's hands. _

'_You're all wet,' he added, looking Kurogane up and down. _

'_I noticed,' Kurogane snapped. Fai merely grinned at him. His blonde hair was plastered to his face, and the water still clinging to his eyelashes made his eyes sparkle twice as brightly as usual. _

'_It's only water, Kuro-myuu. It dries off…'_

_-x-X-x-_

_Sometimes evenings got very boring, and Kurogane had run out of magazines. He had grudgingly joined in a game of cards, and had lost completely to Sakura. Now they were watching Fai and Mokona roll around in the dirt, while he sat in the corner trying to pretend he wasn't annoyed. _

'_I won!' he heard Mokona shout. What it had won, he wasn't sure. _

_Fai sidled up to Kurogane. He was covered in dust, and there was grass in his hair. _

'_I think I need a hug, Kuro-chii,' Fai said, putting on his best 'dejected' face. _

''_You want a hug, though, ask Mokona,' he said gruffly, trying to make up for lost dignity. _

_Fai laughed. 'But he prefers you!' _

'_I've had enough hugs from that little-' Kurogane growled, remembering the amount of times he'd had to pick the surprisingly persistent furball out of his clothes and blankets. _

'_You can never have enough hugs, Kuro-tan,' _

_-x-X-x-_

_Kurogane wandered out into the largish garden of the house Fai had rented for them to stay in during the winter, a thick scarf his only concession to the freezing cold. He saw Mokona and Sakura first, staring at a whirling lump of snow that he realised was Fai writhing around on the ground, limbs flailing. He was mildly alarmed at this, but after a couple of seconds the mage sprang to his feet, grinning. He looked like a man having a seizure in reverse. _

'_Kuro-pon!' Fai yelled in delight, and ran towards him. For about three steps. He tripped on some object hidden by a drift and pitched face-forward into the snow. _

_Kurogane walked slowly over to him, careful to avoid any potential hazards and suffer the same undignified fate as Fai, and lifted Fai up by the collar. _

'_What the hell were you doing?' he growled. _

_Fai could have supplied a medium-sized city with power for a week with his megawatt smile. _

'_We were making snow angels, Kuro-chii,'_

'_Snow-' Kurogane resisted the urge to just drop Fai back into the freezing whiteness. It was no less than the mage deserved. He sniffed suspiciously. _

'_You've been drinking again,' he said, scowling. Great. A drunken Fai was no less easier to deal with than a sober one. _

'_Only one glass!' Fai replied imploringly. _

'_It was a large glass,' Sakura whispered, her face beet red. She covered her mouth, as if the betrayal was too much for her. _

_Kurogane sighed, and finally succumbed to temptation by loosening his hold on Fai's collar. Fai, to his surprise, didn't fall; instead the mage wobbled slightly before taking a careful step back towards Sakura. _

'_And that's how you do it, Sakura-chan! Only I don't think Kuro-tan will pick you up after…' _

_-x-X-x-_

The memories swirled in front of Kurogane's eyes so fast he could barely keep up with them. All around him Fai was smiling, laughing… The image of Fai covered in blood as he died was a dream away.

He glanced to his left, and saw Fai grinning as he failed to light a fire with wet tinder.

Above him Fai was teaching Sakura how to do a handstand.

To his right and a little down Fai was running across the floor of the café with a mop.

_Are these the memories you want to hold on to?_

Kurogane was aware of ground beneath his feet, solid and firm. The blades of grass tickled his ankles.

He was… home?

No. He couldn't let go of the images. Fai was dead, but these memories were real, somehow. If he could just keep them alive…

_Don't be silly, Kuro-pon. How could you survive without a world to live in? You have to set it free. _

He had to let them go.

With a sigh, he allowed the pictures to dissolve and scatter, picked away by the brisk breeze that plucked at his clothing. He almost felt something touch his cheek, and even though it was light as air the spot burned with a fiery intensity all the same.

A kiss?

He opened his eyes. He hadn't realised they'd been shut. The pictures of Fai had felt so real…

His vision was instead filled with a pale pink.

Pink? Of course. It was spring in his homeland. The cherry trees…

_Do you remember telling me about cherry trees in the spring?_

' I love you, Fai,' he murmured as the blossom whirled like butterflies around him.

FINIS

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The Obligatory Author's Note:

First of all, thank you so much to everyone who read this story. Even bigger thanks to everyone who reviewed along the way (and apologies to everyone I made cry- I feel quite guilty about that). Extra-specially large thanks to Xx-DarkStar, -Phantom-Angel-89, Hopeless Romantic, Shunatsu and all the others who reviewed not one or two but nearly every chapter, and possibly the largest thanks I can give to Talim-Hime, who was not only my first reviewer for this story but reviewed EVERY SINGLE CHAPTER. It really brightened my day, every time.

(Also, Hopeless Romantic, I couldn't PM you because you're anonymous, but I hope the ending was happy enough)

I wrote another couple of bits for this universe, but I'm almost certianly going to have to edit them heavily if they're going to make it to my account. I'm listing this story as 'complete' but still- watch this space.

I said at the beginning I hope everyone enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it, and I've had a great time. Thanks again for everything.

Beth0987


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